


Beautiful

by Pingoodle (ThatAloneOne)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dystopia, Gen, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 11:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatAloneOne/pseuds/Pingoodle
Summary: In a future where people stop autonomously breathing when they see their first truly thing, Lily is an oddity.





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my more... I want to say esoteric stories? It's weird. I like it.
> 
> I figured since this is posted on Tumblr, the internet already has this and it may as well properly have it.

"We've got a code V."

"Get them on the breather, shoot 'em up," I say, even though I don't really need to. Everyone knows how to bring someone back from the good ol' brink. It's protocol, though, so I say it again. "Once they're stable, get them to medical. I'll meet you there."

The voice crackles back, too distorted to identify. I think it's Xander, though. He was the lead of the team sent out to scout the next level of tunnels. An interesting assignment, unlike mine in Monitoring. "Copy that."

I stand, strapping my walkie talkie back into my belt, though I'm not done cleaning the antenna. It can wait. A Code V can't. No matter how routine it is, it's never dull. "What was it?"

There's a pause before the voice answers, now that we've broken from the tired exchange. I can hear scuffling in the background, muted voices. On my side, I have a quick gestured conversation with Yvette, motioning that I'll stay with the Code V till the end of my shift. Then, from the talkie, a sigh. "The amethyst deposit in Sector Nine. I keep  _telling_  Kasey we need to get it dug out."

I sigh as I yank open the door. Definitely Xander, then. He's been sore about that since his little brother fainted at the sight of them. "Yeah, yeah. Have there been any casualties as a result of the deposit?" I don't wait for the answer. "No. You know the rules, Xander. It's not dangerous unless you can get caught off-guard by it. It's out of reach of the children, and you need group clearance to get near it. If you gotta get stunned by something, it's not a bad choice."

Xander grumbles back something about safety and how the longer you're in solo, the healthier you are, but I shut him out. It's nothing I haven't heard a thousand times, and really, I shouldn't be talking. I'm one of the lucky ones. Capable of breathing all on her own — in other words, solo.

I pass the kindergarten class in the hall, meditating on how to be the best tripping hazard possible. I smile involuntarily, remembering doing the exact same thing when I was little. Breathing class, laid right out in the middle of the hallway. It's deliberate, the way they're sitting. I know it was deliberate when I did, conspiring with my friends and giggling when all the adults scrunched up their faces like they were trying to eat a lemon.

Medical is right past the kids, and I hang back in the doorway for a second before entering, giving myself a couple seconds warning on who got stunned. I don't  _think_  I know anyone on the mission, but it's always better to be safe rather than sorry.

Medical spreads out before me in a lake of red lights and beeping. It's the emergency section, the one for Code V's, mangled limbs, and other unfortunate occurrences. There're only a couple occupied bunks — Hader, who got into the alcohol again; Jana, nursing a broken ankle; and then, a grey looking Ben, hooked up to one of the extra oxy ventilators.

I let out a sigh of relief before jogging over. I don't know who I expected it be, but, well... Life is always full of surprises. Like me, still solo at seventeen. I'm pretty sure it's a record.

Xander is the only one at Ben's bedside, the rest of the team having cleared off to deliver their scouting data to Kasey. I stand next to him, close enough to offer to comfort, but far enough that he won't snap at me. Xander's always touchy in Medical, ever since his father died in a ventilator malfunction.

"Lily, reporting in on a Code V."

Xander looks over at me, briefly. His hair falls into his eyes, shining and sleek against his dark skin. "Ben Jadel experienced his respiratory event upon sighting the amethyst cluster in Sector Nine. The rescue ventilator was applied immediately, and he was in Medical within twenty minutes."

I don't even pretend to take notes. There isn't much to remember, though I will have to submit a report. Everything normal, Ben Jadel, Sector Nine, amethyst. "And the mission?"

Xander shrugs. It's a tight motion, like his breaths. "It was just a fifth run through of the expanded Sector Nine tunnels. No risk. Hannah and Lysander are off reporting to Kasey."

I shift away as Xander reaches for Ben's hand, gripping it tight in his huge one. It's never been proven that touch brings people to wakefulness faster, but that's never stopped anyone. "And, what'd he say?"

"'Oh shit'," Xander quotes dryly. I snigger, even though it's probably rude. Ben doesn't move, still breathing noisily through the ventilator. "It's unique, I'll give him that."

"When have we ever known Ben to be ordinary?" I say, but the humour's suddenly gone. Even with the extra oxy, his skin is greyed and pale under it's usual golden tone. Ben was fifteen, old, really. I'm practically ancient. It's only a matter of time, but... I can't imagine that. I can't imagine depending "Poor kid. He was so excited to be able to sleep in his own bed for so long."

Xander sobers, too, the vestiges of a smile dropping off his face. To his left, the ventilator hisses out another breath. Ben's chest rises and falls, unnerving in it's steadiness. "I know. What were the scientists  _thinking_ , way back when?"

"Man, is never getting the cold again the shit," I say, and it's not really a joke. Immunity to the majority of viruses and bacteria is one of the upsides of the mass genetic modification the human race underwent. "Look, they couldn't've known."

Xander squeezes Ben's hand tighter, like that'll wake him faster. Again, I can feel the ghost of a breathing tube in my throat, and I shiver. We all try one on, when we're little, so we know what it feels like when the time comes. It's not painful, not like the outdated tech some of the other settlements use. It's a tiny tube, really, flexible and soft with an expanding end that locks into your windpipe.

"You don't need to reteach me history, Lily," Xander says, with just a little bit of bite. "We all had that class. We all passed our tests."

"Yeah, but not all of us seem to have absorbed the information." I cross my arms tight over my chest and pretend it's because I'm irritated and not because I'm frightened. I focus on breathing, though I don't have to. Rise and fall. Rise and fall. "The modifications in themselves were totally fine. They tested everything they could think of. The genome was stable. It was safe."

"Safe," Xander scoffs, but he's listening. You can't not. The story is always fascinating, if morbid. "For  _them_."

I agree. "For them. Right. And the next generation, too. Most of the third." It wasn't the genetic modifications in themselves that caused the problems. They really  _did_  fix most of humanity's problems. All the calls about ethics and purity were abandoned as soon as people realized that they'd never have to suffer through the common cold again. Funny how easily people's minds change. "It was the fact that the modified genes were recombining in ways they shouldn't've."

For the second generation, the mutations were harmless. Starlight eyes, the ones that are so deep and shining of a blue you'd think they really were stars. I've got starlight eyes, though not a lot of others do, now. It was a short term mutation. Recessive.

If only the rest of them were like that.

"...and here we are, getting the breath knocked out of us by the first beautiful thing we see." Xander finishes. His grip on Ben's hand has slackened. At least the poor kid won't have to get treated for a broken hand, too.

I pretend at a smile. "So you did pay attention in class!"

His smile is short, humourless. "Hard not to, when they tell you that one day you'll have to think about every breath you take."

I stay silent, all too aware that I've forgotten that I'm breathing. Again. A luxury nearly nobody else has.

Genetic modifications: great. Until they strip you of the one thing you need to live — the ability to breathe without thinking about it. It's easy to take for granted, until it isn't an option anymore. You can't sleep unless you're hooked up to a ventilator, and if you're not paying close enough attention to your breathing, you can pass out. And die.

Once you've seen something you think is stunningly, unimaginably beautiful, you're a goner. Your breath stops in your chest.

First up, they tried keeping everyone in beige rooms, with beige furniture and beige food. They tried keeping us from seeing anything beautiful. That backfired spectacularly, as these things tend to do. When you live your whole baby life in beige, your aunt's starlight eyes can be enough to stun you.

Babies don't do well on ventilators.

Next up, they tried to fix us with more modifications. Nothing else could go wrong, right?

Wrong. Their heartbeats went along with their breathing, the first time they got startled. Not even stunned — startled. You can make yourself breathe, but you can't make your heart beat. After that, they stopped. Instilled the buddy system. Improved their ventilator technology. And so we live with it.

I leave Xander to his stewing when my shift alarm goes off. With a reminder to message the monitoring centre when Ben wakes up, of course. Just because we've been drilled on this stuff since birth doesn't mean we aren't able to forget it.

I make it about ten steps.

"Hey, Solo," my worst enemy says. He's smiling, as worst enemies do. It's the same smile as mine, twisted up at one end because we both read the same books about attractive half-smiles and thought they meant half a smile. "How's tricks?"

"If you call me Solo one more time I'm going to disembowel you with my walkie talkie," I tell my older brother cheerfully. "And I don't want to do that, see, because I just cleaned the circuits."

"Aww, you wouldn't disembowel your favourite older brother!" my least favourite older brother says, and then hugs me until my ribs ache. After the whole dilemma with Ben, I don't like not being able to breathe, so I pull free sooner than I usually would. "Hey, where're you going, Solo?"

"Away from you," I tell him, and start striding for the mess hall. I'm starved after a long day of staring at the screens in the Monitoring Hall. It's a prestigious job, sure, but it's boring when nobody's doing anything dangerous. "Only older brother."

I'm so used to him brushing that off with a "Details, details," that I don't notice that he's gone until I'm almost to the mess. The hallways are teeming with people rubbing their throats, freshly woken, coming for their meals. I spin on the spot, but he's gone. That's odd. I turn again, and then-

"Boo!"

I jump back, barely stifling a shriek. Danté doubles over laughing, pleased as punch. The area clears, though it's through no small amount of raised eyebrows. I flush. "You  _suck_."

He just winks. "I've never scared anyone before. It's sort of... exhilarating, isn't it?"

"Well, I wouldn't know, since I'm not an asshole," I say, pleasant as pie, and then slug his arm. He winces, jumps sideways. "You  _jerk_. Don't  _do_  that!"

Danté shrugs, dodges another punch. "Hey! No harm, no foul. You're still solo, Solo. There's no chance of you up and forgetting to breathe."

Trust Danté to be able to make my oddity into something useful for pranks. Honestly. "I hate you."

Danté drags me sideways, out of the river of people heading for the food. He leans in, so I do too, because whatever his faults, my brother can be serious about things. "Look, violent little sis, I got dispensation to check out the forest cavern.  _And_ ," and he leans in further, like this is some giant secret. My breath catches in my chest. "I got permission for you to tag along."

"But..." I falter, aching to see trees. It's been a dream, ever since I saw the blurry, black and white photo they show us in preschool. Nothing pretty enough to trigger a stop in our breathing, but... "That's impossible! I'm not even allowed to go to Sector Nine, even though I've already checked out the amethyst. They don't want to risk me." I laugh, dry and short. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm cured. And they don't want to know if I'm not."

Another shrug, wide and involving elbows. Someone else swerves away from us, sending Danté a nasty look. He ignores them. "It's so beautiful it'll damn well knock the air right back into your body if you lose it. Trust me, Solo, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

And it is. Nobody is permitted to visit the forest cavern. It's too stunning to be allowed. They're afraid that even the ones that got stunned years ago will be entranced enough to forget themselves.

"I..." I don't have words. For once, Danté has rendered me speechless. It's not unlike what I imagine getting stunned must be like. My mind is no longer cooperating, overwhelmed. "I don't..."

"Want to refuse me? Great!" And then, without another word, he spins on his heel and heads back up the corridor. I gape.

"Danté!" I protest. "Hey! Don't you dare leave!"

"Come along, Solo!"

"No!" I yell back, but that's my threshold for making a scene, so I scowl and follow. I'm warring with myself — half of me wants to stab Danté, and the other half is sparking with delight at a chance to see the forest. "Danté!  _Danté_!"

I don't catch up with my idiot brother until we're at the checkpoint leading to Sector Four. This time, I don't punch him. Which is a good thing, because already I'm being squinted at. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if I got spontaneously arrested for blinking wrong.

"The forest?" the station attendant says, and his sizeable Adam's Apple bobs. Again, pitched even higher. " _The forest_?

I'm tempted to say,  _No, the moon_ , but for once Danté is the more mature sibling. "Yep," he says, and his wide grin is lopsided and kind enough that the station attendant nearly sags with relief. "We need to rejig the camera, it's gone down."

The man un-sags, like he's been prodded with a shock stick. "Gone down?" he repeats, and it occurs to me that I've never heard him say anything original. "Gone down?"

Danté smiles again, and I attempt to look reassuring. I don't really know how, but hey. "It's nothing to worry about. It's old. Nothing fishy."

He takes another frightened glance at me, gulps again. "Nothing fishy." And then, surprisingly, he waves us by. I join Danté in a half-run for Sector Four. The forest is beyond there, somewhere in the distant reaches of the mapped sectors. It supplies all the oxygen these cave systems need, but it does it well from a distance. Nobody knows what kind of creatures could be living in it.

Or, there could just be squirrels and deer. There's enough natural light pouring through the cracks in the top that they could be just like the creatures on the surface. These people worry for nothing.

Halfway there — or something along that measure — my feet start to ache, and so does my head. It's been a long day, and I tell him so.

"Stop carping, Solo." My brother tells me, grinning and unbothered. Just like usual, this trek means nothing to him. Maybe it's because he works out in the mornings, but mostly it's because he's as annoying as heck. "I think the forest makes up for having to go on an extra shift."

"I'm not carping," I say, offended. "I'm just, you know, reasonably stating my objections to this current situation. And plus, I have to file a report. Ben fainted in Sector Nine."

"Forest," Danté says, in the same way he usually says  _They're serving burgers for lunch._

"Oh, shush."

And then, there it is. The archway. It's natural, carved by an ancient river, but that doesn't make it any less amazing. Danté blasts right by it, gaping at the display, but I hang back, just like I did in Medical. Preparing myself. Pulling all the memories of the grainy photos to the front of my mind.

When I can't hold myself back anymore, I step forward. As I clear the edges of the opening, I raise my eyes, and devour the sights.

The first thing I notice is that we're uplifted — up a long trail from the forest. I could never tell that from the pictures.

And then that's all I see. A forest, real and teeming with colour. Not just green, though there's a lot of that. I can see the individual leaves on the trees, even from the distance. Some are serrated, some smooth, all veined and strange. There's a thousand shades of brown and black and grey, the rocks and trunks reaching up from the deep, rich earth. I can smell the soil in the air, so unlike the doctored air of the rest of the sectors. It's sweet, heady, and sharp, everything I've imagined and more all at once.

I say, "Oh."

I know what it's like to be short on oxygen. Another thing they teach us through example — so we'll know, when we stop breathing. Dizziness, black spots in a flickering vision, an ache deep in our hearts. Unlike before, though, there's no tug at my lungs. My body is aching for air, but it's not going to do anything about it.

Maybe that's why people always pass out. Maybe without the desperate call, they can't notice that they need to breathe until it's too late. Maybe they're entranced, distracted, stunned.

I stare out at the beautiful forest, and I breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr and dreamwidth as writerproblem193!


End file.
